Ay me, real life is getting in the way of my perfect life!

Of all coggie-goes-on-indie, summer is over. Like really over. I smelled it when we were in Truckee a couple weeks ago, and I thought, "I remember this smell from traipsing around my neighborhood in a witches' costume. I think I smell Fall! That, or Hallowe'en..." Mind you, I did end up with a quarter pound of fudge in my purse in Truckee, but I'd say that is more of a trick than a treat. Look at my gut!

Like one of those rich people, who has more money than they know what to do with, I have spent the last several months in I-don't-know land. Am I really a bleeding heart liberal? Do I really want to work my tail off for less than "market" rate? Where's the writing, the creativity, gonna fit in?

Well shoot, if you're reading this, you probably already know I'm doing The Process. We are still in the 1st week, but I last night, I got up in front of my classmates and blubbered and sobbed, and gave myself lashes for being late and not fed, and I got to see how ugly it is. Not that someone would be late and unfed, but that someone would think that was really worth getting so upset about.

So, I was in my individual session with Emma*, and I was talking about this looking for a job struggle, and how Barry said I was funny and I should try scriptwriting. And my immediate thought was, how the hell am I gonna get the connections to get a job on SNL? No, maybe I'll write for a few ill-fated pilots, then a moderately funny sit-com, and 15 years later... maybe SNL. Which brought me back to square one. I have to work stupid-ass jobs through a temp agency for the rest of my life. Yikes.

Here's hoping that's wrong!!

Suffice it to say, there's gonna be a lot of writing for my class called The Process, so unless it feels right, methinks there will be not much up here for the next couple months. We'll see. The words have to fall somewhere!


*It's not just therapists changing the name of their clients.